


Wish Fulfillment

by Zarla



Series: Vargas Stories [22]
Category: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac
Genre: Anal Sex, Bickering, Bondage, Denial, Dom/sub, Emotional Overload, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Religious Guilt, Sexual Repression, Sharing a Body, Unhealthy Relationships, i have no idea if this counts as a threesome or not, probably about as fluffy as these stories can get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29055381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarla/pseuds/Zarla
Summary: Sex is also complicated when two people live in the same body.
Relationships: Edgar Vargas/Original Character(s), Edgar/Scriabin
Series: Vargas Stories [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/20964
Comments: 23
Kudos: 41





	Wish Fulfillment

**Author's Note:**

> This is super self-indulgent but I figure that with all the unspeakable horrors I've put poor Edgar through, there might as well be one story where he has sex he wants and enjoys with someone who's nice to him for once (Scriabin is still terrible to him though lol).  
> Some part of me always rebels at Scriabin caring about anyone but Edgar - especially when they're still in the same body - or having anyone intrude on Scriabin's claustrophobic codependent nightmare of a relationship with Edgar, but I wanted to explore it at least once. It's just such a weird situation.
> 
> Jake here is from [Notice Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/49616), except instead of panicking and ditching them when he found out their whole deal, he stuck around and they've been seeing each other since. So this would be set roughly around the same time period, around chapter 18-19 of [Vargas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/49492/chapters/65055).

Scriabin was humming in that way that always made him nervous.

 _What did you do?_ Edgar thought about it a bit more. _What's going to happen to me? I know you did something._

 _I didn't do anything,_ Scriabin said in a very light, sing-song kind of tone. He could hear him smiling. _It'll be a surprise._

 _Those two things are mutually exclusive._ Edgar frowned, that feeling of foreboding only getting worse. It didn't really seem fair that for how close the two of them were, Scriabin could still surprise him with some new and often awful thing. _What did you do?_

Scriabin hummed louder, almost on the verge of singing, which really made Edgar nervous. He didn't do that, not unless he was very pleased about something that was going to be very bad for him.

There was a knock at the door, and Edgar jumped.

 _Scriabin, what did you do?_ It was more urgent now as he got up to answer it, and Scriabin laughed in an unsettling, quiet way.

_You'll see._

_Christ, I don't know what's worse, you being obvious about it or you being like this. This is going to hurt, isn't it?_

He got a sort of feline smugness from him. _Maybe._

 _God... damn it._ Not angry so much as quietly resigned. _How bad?_

_I told you... it's a surprise._

Edgar opened the door, cautiously, not sure of what to expect but bracing himself regardless, and there, on the other side, was Jake. He gave Edgar that same warm, puzzling smile he always did when he saw him. In return, Edgar found himself silently counting how many piercings he had in this time, as he always did. _The eyebrow ones, the lip ring, the nose piercing... can't see the earrings with his hair in the way..._

One thing he and Scriabin did share at least was a sort of low-level confusion about them, a silent question of _but why_ that they both were smart enough to never say out loud. Although, Scriabin did taunt him at times with empty threats of piercing one of his ears while he was in control of his body. He never actually did it, thankfully, but he loved how upset the idea made Edgar every time.

"Hey dude," Jake said, with a tilt of his head. He had a bag slung over one shoulder, his hand hooked into the strap of it, and Edgar's eyes lingered a little too long over the muscles of his arm. Jake always wore shirts that seemed a bit too tight, and for some reason Edgar found himself thinking about that a lot. Something about Jake's body always seemed a little unreal in a way that was hard to define. 

After a moment, Jake's smile faded as he tsked. "He didn't tell you, did he?"

"Uh..."

"He didn't." He shook his head with a sigh. "Yeah, he asked me to come over tonight." 

Edgar moved out of the way to let him in, and when the door shut, he found himself in Jake's arms, the sudden warmth and solidity of it always a bit startling. Every time he saw him, Jake gave him a hug, and as much as he enjoyed it... he was never really prepared for it. Even admitting that he _did_ enjoy it or want it was difficult.

 _I know who to blame for that,_ Scriabin said, although he sounded a little distracted. Still pleased, but slightly unfocused. Technically, Scriabin wasn't used to these any more than Edgar was.

Edgar closed his arms around Jake in return, tried to grab hold of that elusive feeling of _safety_ he got whenever he was around. Sometimes it felt like nothing could hurt him when Jake held him like this, and he felt guilty for wanting that although he wasn't sure why.

Scriabin didn't care much for the holding, or the gentle things, or the talk about feelings, or Edgar trying to sort through his issues as Jake lended a sympathetic ear. That bored him, he said, but he _did_ enjoy how it made Edgar feel at times. He always made that distinction very clear - there were things that he did enjoy on their own merit, and things that he only enjoyed due to how they made Edgar feel, and those two things did not overlap. And one thing he _did_ enjoy on its own was sex, and Edgar was absolutely sure that was what he'd had in mind tonight. It was always foremost on Scriabin's mind when he wanted Jake to come over, and even more so when he invited him over himself.

Still, it was odd...

"If he invited you over..." Edgar said, his eyes closed with his head on Jake's shoulder. "I'm surprised he didn't just take control entirely."

"Yeah, well... he wanted to try something."

"Mm?" It was an instinctual little scared sound, his heart jumping as he immediately wanted to bolt, but Jake didn't let him go.

"Don't worry, it's nothing bad." Jake pulled away a little to touch his cheek. "Trust me."

"I..." Edgar wanted to, he _really_ wanted to, but it was just so, so hard after everything he'd been through. Jake had never done anything wrong to him, he reassured him over and over again, and God, he felt so guilty that even for all of that, still, _still_ some part of him was always bracing itself for the inevitable pain. "I know, it just..." He made an uncomfortable sound. "I don't like it when he gets ideas... they usually go badly for me."

Jake tsked again, although this one seemed more clearly directed at Scriabin. "Yeah, I know. But I think he might have been on to something with this one. I sort of suspected it a little myself, but..." He ran his thumb across his cheek. "This is definitely something where you want to make sure everyone's on the same page, you know? And if you're not, it's fine! There's no pressure, okay?"

Edgar made that uncomfortable noise again, and Jake looked him in the eye with sincerity that still seemed so strange. "How are you feeling?"

It wasn't that Edgar _intended_ to hide how he felt... it was just what he _did_ , for all that Jake tried to convince him to do otherwise. It was still hard for him to actually look within and try to find a word for whatever formless thing was inside him this time, and to find the courage to actually say it out loud. He was always on high alert for mistakes with Johnny because even one would be lethal, and Scriabin could just read whatever he was feeling whether he wanted him to or not. He really was not used to this, and it took a lot of effort to force himself to be honest.

"I'm... I'm nervous," Edgar said, quietly, shame starting to bubble up at the inconvenience of _feeling_. "I know you won't hurt me, but..." He withdrew his arms from around him, an unconscious pulling back. "It's hard to... I'm just a little nervous."

Jake took hold of his hand to stop him scratching at his scars - he didn't even realize he'd started doing it - and Edgar expected annoyance or irritation at his doubt but Jake just gave him that understanding smile he always did. "I know, I know. It'll be okay, don't worry. It's nothing bad. Come on."

He began to lead him to his bedroom, he already knew and yet Edgar couldn't help but ask, "Where are we going...?"

"You know where we're going, dude." Jake almost laughed at the question, and he looked back at him with that same smile. "You're adorable sometimes, you know that?"

"Ah..." Edgar really had no idea how to react when he said things like that, it just sent a flush of embarrassment through him that didn't feel _bad_ exactly. He really wasn't sure how to describe it, it was still embarrassment but it was sort of like he wanted it to keep happening. "I'm not..."

"You are. Come on." Jake sat down on the bed and pulled him down gently to sit beside him. Adrenaline was starting to build at the thought of where this was going.

 _It's your own fault for not having the balls to call him for sex yourself when you want it,_ Scriabin said. _I always have to do it for you, and do you ever thank me for it? Of course you don't. As always, my generosity goes unappreciated._

 _It's not that I..._ It was hard for him to think, the anticipation was getting harder to ignore. _That's not really something you can just ask for, it's not something that I..._

_What a strange coincidence then that you're as willing to fuck as I am whenever he comes over like this. Never heard you say no to it yet. Can you tell me why that is?_

_It's..._ Edgar couldn't think straight, he felt so suddenly warm. He wanted to think of something clever to say, and fumbled clumsily onto something more sincere than he wanted. _It's not something you should want._

 _Fuck that. I want to get fucked and so do you, and if you aren't going to admit it, then I will._ Scriabin sighed. _Although really... I want to do the fucking, but that's not really possible with how things are._ And there was a longer sigh, one with some genuine longing and pain in it. Edgar wanted to apologize, even though it wasn't his fault.

"Hey." Jake gently shook his shoulder, and Edgar blinked. "You two okay?"

Still felt so bizarre that Jake knew, and also that he didn't judge them for it. Edgar still didn't understand how he could be _okay_ with something like this. Edgar was barely okay with it himself. "Oh, yeah, we were just talking..."

"What about?"

"Um..." And Edgar looked away a little at the wall, his face burning. Jake laughed.

"Right. Of course. That's what I wanted to ask you about, actually." Jake rested a hand on the bag by his side. "Scriabin said he had an idea."

Always, when Jake said his name, there was a little pulse of positive warmth within like a beat of Scriabin's non-existent heart. Edgar made that uncomfortable noise again.

"And it wasn't just for him, otherwise you wouldn't be awake, obviously." Jake clicked his tongue piercing against his teeth in thought. "He wanted to try something that he thinks you'll really like."

"Me...?" Edgar touched his chest, and that warmth within had scattered in a sort of frenzied retreat.

 _Like I'd ever._ Scriabin sounded very caught off-guard. _There'd be no reason. You don't even deserve the little bit of consideration I do give you._

"Yeah, you." Jake gave him an oddly knowing look. "He had this look on his face when he talked about how much he thought you'd like it. I know what he's like when you're awake, but you know... sometimes I wish you could see how he talks about you when you're asleep."

 _More like I wish you could see his face when I tell him in detail about what awful shitty thing you've done this time, and believe me, that list never runs out. I could come up with at least five things right now._ He was speaking quickly, still trying to corral the surprise and other feelings that were coming up so suddenly. Edgar could catch embarrassment in it, one that was a cousin to what he'd felt just a second ago... not necessarily bad, and yet. He didn't know they could both feel that, but he guessed that made sense. _All I talk about when you're not there is how awful it is when you are there. What a goddamn awful burden you are to everyone around you._

"Well..." Edgar looked down towards the floor. "It must be pretty different than how he talks to me when I'm here..."

"It _shouldn't_ be." Jake pointed at him, although again, it seemed clear he was pointing _through_ him to wherever Scriabin was.

 _Whatever, I don't care. This is fucking stupid. Ask him what's in the bag,_ Scriabin said, too quickly. _Ask him what's in there, do it now._

"Okay, okay..." Edgar said, then shook his head as he caught himself. "Oh, sorry... he wants to know what's in the bag."

"He already knows what's in it." Jake shook his head, although he was smiling. "I think he wants _you_ to know what's in it."

 _Exactly, exactly. Ask him to show it to you._ Scriabin sounded very excited now in a way that made Edgar nervous again. His tone definitely had the sound of encouraging someone to walk into a pitfall.

"But... first I want to ask you about it." Jake reached out and took one of his hands. "We both know Scriabin likes lying about things."

 _How dare you._ It was a sort of reflexive defensiveness, even though as it came from him it was like he already knew how ridiculous it was. It was quite possibly the most fundamental aspect of his existence - they _all_ knew that he was a liar.

"So, there is a chance he was just lying about this, although if he was I want to talk to him about that later." There was a bit of a scolding tone to that, to which Scriabin grumbled with a resentful throb of contrariness. It was always uncomfortable thinking about Jake and Scriabin interacting when he wasn't there. They had an entire relationship together that Edgar never saw, and it wasn't like he could trust Scriabin's reports about it. Most of them he assumed Scriabin made up wholesale just to make him feel bad or inadequate. He had no idea what they actually talked about or did while he was gone. Who was the Scriabin that Jake knew? It couldn't be the one that Edgar knew... why would he even be here, if that was the case?

 _Ex cuse me,_ Scriabin said. _I'm right here._

_What, are you going to say you're not an asshole?_

_Rude!_ Scriabin said, with fake affront. _I don't know what Jake sees in you._

"But, I gotta say..." Jake continued. "I sort of wondered about it myself too with, like... how you like to do things."

Edgar couldn't help his concerned look or the tone in his voice. "Is it bad? It's bad, isn't it."

"It's not bad." Jake held up his free hand. "It's _not_ bad, so definitely don't think that, okay? I know a lot of people get hung up about it but it's _not_ bad, and if you are into it that's not bad either, okay?" And he made a sort of thoughtful noise as he tried to slot words into place. "I know this kind of thing is confusing if you're not as into sex as I am. Like, if you don't know as much about it. People think it's easy but it's not."

"It's bad, isn't it." Edgar couldn't shake the thought, and Jake squeezed his hand.

"It's not, it's really not. But... I do think it's going to be a little... embarrassing? For you to think about at first? When I ask you. And that's okay, but... I do want you to be honest about it with me, okay? Because again... if you're not, that's okay." He raised an eyebrow, one of the hoops glittering. "But if you are..."

"What is it?" Edgar said, thin and quiet.

Jake paused in thought as he considered his words. "Do you think... you'd like being tied up a little?"

His face flared with sudden heat, it was like a furnace ignited within him. _Scriabin! Scriabin, what did you tell him?! What did you say to him?? Why would you say something like that to him?? Why would you let him think-_

 _Because you are into bondage, you tool!_ Scriabin sounded a little intense, some warmth of his own blending into the storm currently burning through him. _It couldn't be more obvious! It was like the first thing that happened when we met in person!_

_You did that to me! I had nothing to do with it! What the fuck- how could you say that to him, how could you lie about that, God, he's going to think I'm- I'm-_

_What? Disgusting? Perverted? Damaged? Broken? Sinful?_ Scriabin still had that tone in his voice. _You heard him, it's perfectly normal, and I know you, and if he ties you up you are going to come harder than you ever have in your entire life._

_You shouldn't- you can't TELL him things like that without my permission, you can't- God, he's going to think I'm- I'm not, I'm not... I'm not into things like that, I'm not, it's not- it's not normal-_

_Fuck normal, have we ever been normal? This is probably the only time in history you can have threesomes with two people. And I can tell him whatever the hell I want by the way. When I'm in control you can't do shit to stop me from doing anything._

The mention of a threesome sent another blaze of heat through him, he _really_ hated thinking about that. In the heat of the moment, he always tried to ignore the deeper ramifications of hearing Scriabin's voice along his own, and feeling his enjoyment along with his. He did _not_ want to think about that. Like thinking about sex wasn't already fraught enough?

Jake squeezed his hand, and Edgar shook his head for a moment, still feeling entirely too warm.

"Oh... oh, sorry," Edgar said faintly, dizzy now almost. He'd done something terribly wrong, he was sure of it.

"No, I thought that'd happen. I'm sure you didn't want him to tell me. But... again, you know... there really isn't anything wrong with it, if you are into it. And if you want to, we totally can, I know how." He rubbed his thumb along the back of his hand. "And you know I'll be very careful with you."

Edgar did know that, which blended some other warmth in with the shame and embarrassment he was drowning in. That comfortable safe feeling was tempting, it lingered around the sharp spikes of thinking about exactly what he was offering.

 _You're picturing it, I know you are._ Scriabin had a sort of throaty sound to his voice, something Edgar had come to recognize as growing lust. He was way more proactive than Edgar in pursuing or wanting this. _Can't you see it? You're hiding from it, but I can see it. What do you think? He can tie your hands behind your back... blindfold you so you can't see what he's doing, tie your legs down and apart so he can do whatever he wants while you're helpless... you're picturing it, aren't you? I can feel you picturing it._

And, as much as he didn't want to... Edgar could feel himself picturing it too, as the pooling heat between his legs made clear.

_You want it, tell him you want it. You have literally nothing to lose._

"You don't..." He felt very overheated now, guilt and shame the only things coming through it that he felt like he could grasp. "I don't... I don't want you to do anything if you don't want to."

"Do _you_ want to? That's what I'm asking."

Edgar looked away at the other wall, it felt like everything in him was burning.

_Tell him, tell him, you coward._

"Um..." His voice trembled, he was holding onto his hand very tightly.

"Because it looks like you want to, from how you're reacting." Jake was smirking at him a little. "If it's too much... how about a nod, then? Can you do that? Or shake your head, either one."

_Tell him! Tell him, you fucking coward! Do you not realize how fucking good this is going to be when it actually happens? You're going to have your mind fucking blown by it, fuck. Tell him! Tell him or I'll fucking tell him for you._

_No! No, don't... don't do that. Okay, okay..._

Edgar swallowed, still looking away, and then, tentatively, he nodded.

"You sure?"

Edgar nodded again, adrenaline flooding him along with that heat.

_I can't believe you told him that, I can't believe you..._

_It was for your fucking benefit, you fucking baby. You better thank me after this._

"And you know... people into this kind of thing, they usually like being..." Jake again paused to try and pick the right words. "Pushed around, a little?"

_Pushing you around, pft! If he knew what you're picturing. Just shoving you down, demanding total obedience from you, telling you to call him "sir", giving you a collar, can you imagine-_

_Stop!_ More because this felt too overwhelming than anything else, and he couldn't suppress a shudder. _Stop it, stop... I can't- I can't handle this-_

_I think he'd say differently, I think he'd make you handle it, just like you want-_

_Stop!_

_God I wish I could do that to you for real, I'd basically never stop-_

Edgar shuddered again, this time with a shaking little wanting sound that only made him feel more ashamed of himself.

"Though, I have to tell you..." Jake didn't seem bothered by the pauses as Edgar talked to Scriabin... at this point, he had to be used to them, and considering what they were talking about... he probably expected them. He held up a hand. "I can boss you around a little, but I really don't want to be too mean to you, I think that'd be really bad for you. And I _definitely_ don't want to hurt you, so, if you want me to..." He frowned as he struggled with the words. "To, like... hit you, I'm not gonna do that. Like, a hundred percent, I'm not gonna do that. I think that'd really fuck you up, even if you wanted me to do it."

Edgar hadn't even thought of it, although he heard one of those low dark-edged hums he knew well in the back of his mind from Scriabin.

"Yeah, yeah," Edgar breathed out, hoping that saying something out loud might help vent some of whatever he was feeling. "Yeah, I think you're right, I think... I think that'd be a bad idea."

 _I can't really picture him slapping you either._ Scriabin sounded thoughtful now. _I guess that's something that's just for the two of us, isn't it, darling?_

He shuddered at the thought of it, more of that shame coming up. _Stop... stop it, you're just making this worse._

_Worse, or better?_

"You doing okay?"

"Um, it's..." Edgar's free hand went back up to his face again, and his skin burned under his fingers. "It's just... it's hard to think about it, it's just..." He hid his eyes behind his hand. "It's just- _embarrassing_ , I'm sorry, this is so..."

"Well, yeah, sometimes it being embarrassing is part of it, you know?" Jake smiled.

"I shouldn't- I shouldn't be reacting like this-, I know it's just..." He struggled for words. "It's just a thing people can do, I know that, I..."

"Like... it's one thing to talk about a kink someone else has, but another one to talk about one you have yourself, you know?" Jake tilted his head at him, still smiling. "Especially if you've never really talked about it before."

"I..." He wanted to say he _didn't_ have a kink because kinks were _wrong_ and sex was _wrong_ and he hated that he just could not get that part of himself to shut up, no matter how hard he tried.

"It's pretty normal to get a little revved up while talking about it... or thinking about it... or when it's about to happen." Jake inched a little closer to him with that edge to his voice, and Edgar shuddered again as it felt like the whole of him throbbed. "You want to try it?"

"I..." He swallowed, his mouth felt dry, and he pulled his hand from Jake's to cover his face. "I-I..." He felt so hazy and unclear, he wanted to grasp for some kind of shield or explanation or something with more nuance and couldn't get to it. "I'm... I'm just... a little scared."

"Aww, dude." Jake looped an arm around him to pull him against his chest. "I know it's scary to do this kind of thing, especially for the first time. That's totally normal. We'll start small, okay? And you can tell me if you want to go further, or if you want to stop. It'll be your call. You'll be in total control of it, okay?"

Jake had become very familiar with Edgar's issues with that, and that understanding at least was a little comfort in whatever it was he was feeling now. All of it felt like a burning mess, all of it tangling powerfully into itself, a Gordian knot he had no idea how to even begin to unravel. Shame and guilt, doubt and fear, self-disgust and a burning curiousity and desire. He _had_ pictured this, sometimes, and God, he hated himself _so much_ for it, but that hadn't been enough to make it stop. And when he pictured it happening, for real, right now... his body was absolutely not going to let him back down.

 _Adrenaline and lust is such a fantastic combination._ Scriabin sounded a bit breathless. _Don't you think? Fuck yeah, tell him to fuck the hell out of you already._

 _Stop it, don't..._ His breath shivered in his chest, his heart pounded at the thought as his reservations began to slip. _Don't... don't rush me._

"Right, okay... okay, just..." Edgar wasn't sure how to phrase what he wanted, he wasn't sure what the words should be. "Don't... don't let anything bad happen to me."

That didn't make any _sense_ , although it did sort of capture whatever it was he was feeling, that fear underlying it all. What was it he even wanted Jake to do? How was Jake supposed to even do that? What was Edgar even talking _about_ with that? God, he felt so stupid, all the blood had drained out of his brain which kept that shame high.

"Of course not, dude." Jake ran a hand along his side, breathed close to his neck. "I got you. You can trust me."

It was still so hard for him to do that, for all the wave of relief those words brought to him. Everything in him already felt pushed to the limit, and Jake kissing along his neck, sliding his hands beneath his shirt, all of it already felt like too much.

 _You better keep it together._ Scriabin sounded more breathless than before... it was definitely affecting him, he could tell. _If you get off before it even starts I'm going to be pissed at you._

At this point, Edgar wasn't sure he could promise that. He was trembling in his arms already, moaning quietly under his breath, warmth running through him in waves, desire pulsing powerfully for attention. They'd done this enough times that Jake knew what he liked... and also how quickly to do it, which at the moment was quite frustrating.

"What is it you want, huh?" Jake whispered by his ear. "Where do you want to start?"

Edgar couldn't think straight enough to even pin one thing down, if he even could have gotten it out of his mouth.

"I think..." Jake's breath was warm. "I want your hands tied."

"Oh fuck." It came out on a shaking breath, no thought involved in it as far as he could tell. He shuddered powerfully against him, entirely senseless. "Fuck, yes, please."

 _Ha, you see? You just need to be pushed far enough, then momentum takes its course._ Scriabin made a quiet, pleased sound under his breath. 

Jake leaned back and away from him, the loss of his body heat sudden and unwelcome, and he reached out to pull Edgar's glasses from his face. Edgar opened his mouth to protest, but then Jake grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it upwards, and Edgar raised his arms without thinking to let it come all the way off. There was a little bit of roughness to it, but it was more that he'd just _done_ it like that, like...

 _Like he knows he can do anything he wants._ Scriabin was not helping him keep his thoughts clear, and the tone in his voice made it obvious why. It shivered with the same wanting sound that Edgar's did.

 _This is... this is wrong, this is really wrong, I shouldn't... I shouldn't be thinking about things like this-_ He'd known shame for so long, it wasn't just going to disappear without a fight.

Jake set a hand on his chest and pushed him down onto the bed, firmly, and Edgar couldn't help a quiet gasp, everything in him tensing. That flood of adrenaline hit him again, his face prickled, he was panting almost as Jake held up a finger in front of his eyes. He could make that out at least, even if his face was blurry.

"Stay." It was just one word, but it hit him almost like an earthquake.

"Y... yes." He was amazed he managed something even that coherent. The shape of Jake moved out of his vision for a few seconds, and even that felt like too long. Everything in him was aching and desperate for touch, he could not even remember the last time he'd ever been this hard before, and they'd barely even done anything.

 _I told you it'd be good,_ Scriabin purred, satisfied as always, although there was still that appealing breathiness to it. _You never listen to me._

Jake came back into his field of vision, although Edgar couldn't really make out what it was in his hands. He set it down beside him, reached out to take his wrists in a firm grip, and pinned them down above his head. Edgar's back arched, he groaned through his teeth, it wasn't even that he was trying to fight him so much as he had to do _something_ , his body had to do _something_ to get out whatever it was he was feeling.

"Keep them up."

The thought of saying anything but "yes" was absolutely inconceivable. Edgar kept his hands exactly where they'd been left as Jake leaned away from him a little, again, and came back. He was shivering as he leaned over him, adrenaline unable to keep him still, as he felt his wrists pressed together, something being wrapped rough and tight around them. He knew but even so, when he tugged lightly at his wrists, like for some nonsensical reason he had to _check_ , he found he couldn't move them apart, and it throbbed powerfully in his stomach.

 _Can't..._ The thought burned almost, he couldn't keep away from it. _Can't move them..._

 _Hell yeah you can't._ Scriabin was breathing harder now. _Fuck, I can't believe I can't do this to you myself. God, fuck._

Jake leaned back; he could make out the vague shapes of his face, his serious expression, but no details. He hovered over him, Edgar breathing harder with each passing moment, until he trailed one hand down the length of his arm down to his chest as he shuddered underneath it.

"I know you're going to be a good boy for me... but it doesn't hurt to take some precautions, does it?" He could hear that smile in his voice, that smooth tone that always pulled such a reaction out of him. He touched one hand underneath his chin to tilt Edgar's face up towards him. "You _are_ going to be a good boy, aren't you?"

"Fuck..." It felt like he could barely breathe, like he'd become the center of the sun. _Good_ reverberated inside of him over and over again, and he felt so ashamed of how much he wanted it there, how badly he wanted that and this and so many things he knew he shouldn't. "Yes, yes... I will."

"You're going to do everything I tell you, aren't you?"

"Yes." Edgar could barely get it out, he was breathing so hard. He tensed again, his body desperate to do something with this pent-up energy, still feeling little shocks to his heart every time he tried to move his hands and again found he couldn't. "Yes, anything..."

"You're going to be nice..." A meaningful pause he could barely hear through harsh breaths. "And obedient."

" _Jesus_ -" He almost jerked his head out of his grip, his back arched so powerfully he couldn't help the groan through his teeth. He fell back with a trembling gasp, his heart hammering. "Fuck- fuck, yes... God, fuck..."

"Then sit up." Jake leaned back. "Now."

As much as Edgar wanted to do that immediately from the tone in his voice, it was harder than he thought with his hands tied and how weak his body felt all of a sudden. Eventually, Jake grabbed hold of his wrists and pulled him up himself, prompting another shivering moan. When he touched that straining hardness through his jeans, the sensation of it was almost too much after craving it for this long, and he automatically wanted to move his hands to either touch himself or encourage Jake to touch him or _some_ thing, but still they were tied, and that didn't help at all.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He left his hand infuriatingly still, and Edgar whined in spite of himself. "Did I _tell_ you you could?"

Edgar wanted to say something, but he couldn't form it into words. It was another thick gasp with a flush of heat, an uncontrollable attempt to thrust into his hand and get some kind of friction.

"Well?"

He managed to get something through. "I-I- I'm- you didn't, I- I'm sorry-"

"I don't know if that's really good enough." Jake moved his hand away from his jeans up towards his chest, prompting a small whine of protest, although that shivered away soon enough when he toyed with one of his nipples. "What happens when you don't listen?" His voice lowered as he got closer. "Why don't you tell me what happens, Edgar."

"Nnh, _fuck_..." He barely managed to get out, breathless and shaking, trembling all over with it now. Adrenaline was flowing powerfully, fear underneath it that had no teeth to it, like cresting the hill of a rollercoaster. The heat was coming in waves, receding and each time it came back, it felt stronger. "God, you..." 

He didn't want to say it, almost, the drop seemed too frightening, but some part of him couldn't stop himself. Pushed this far, this desperate, his self-control was failing and something he never acknowledged, some part of him he didn't want to have, that disgusting awful part of him he'd tried so many times to kill, came forward. This was what it had been waiting for - finally a safe time and place to speak.

"You..." It was hard to breathe, and he felt Jake's arms around him to hold him steady. He was close enough now that Edgar could see his face well enough, and for all the faint blush across his cheeks, that attempt at a sort of steely distance... he could still see those faint hints of concern in Jake's eyes. Watching him closely... just as he'd promised. This was a rollercoaster... not an actual cliff. "You..."

 _God-_ Scriabin was gasping in his mind, louder about it than Edgar was of course, alternately drowning in desire and a little panicked himself, perhaps also frightened in a similar way at how intense this was. _Come on, say it. Say it, fuck._

"You..." He felt tears sting his eyes, he tugged at his hands again with a trembling gasp. His heart was beating so hard, he wasn't sure how much more he could bear it. It came in a faint, shaky whisper. "You... punish me."

 _Ngh-_ It broke at the end into a gasp. _Jesus- fuck..._

"Do I?" It was quite mild as he leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. "How do I do that?"

"Ah..." He was still close to panting, still struggling to sort out whatever few thoughts he had at this point without much success. He was losing track, almost, of who he was with and even, in a sense, who he was. Scriabin's emotions were powerful, he could _feel_ how much he was enjoying this, how much he wanted this or wanted to do this. It was hard to separate his feelings from Scriabin's and that didn't help his blurry sense of self at all. What was it he even wanted Jake to do? He'd said it, but what did it actually entail? Edgar groped blindly for it, tried to reach into that dark unexplored cave within himself to see what lay within. "You... you, grab me, and, you make me- make me sorry, until I, I never- I never disobey you again-"

_God, I could make you sorry-_

"Until I-" He was gasping for breath now, this was doing something to him he couldn't even recognize. "You, hurt me until, the evil in me burns away and I can-" It poured out of him, pain filling its place. "Be purged of sin, until I can- can stop being like this- being this awful person- it's- it's all I deserve- God, I've done so many bad things, I deserve it, I deserve everything that's ever happened to me-"

"Woah, woah, calm down. Shh." Jake leaned away to try and look at his face, but Edgar shut his eyes to try and keep completely random tears from coming up. Jake's voice and touch were gentle again. "You're going too hard, take a step back, dude."

"I'm- I'm, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"Shh." He pressed a hand to his cheek. "You just gotta chill for a few seconds, okay? It's okay, I've got you. Just calm down. It's okay."

Edgar's breathing slowed a little, his heart still beating hard. He was painfully tense, he realized, and he tried to focus on letting that go, on trying to remember who he was and what he was doing, and who he was doing it with. There was that weak, shivering feeling he sadly knew well that death had only just missed him, and he didn't know why.

"Sorry... sorry." It was hard to speak through it. "Sorry, I ruined it, didn't I...?"

 _You sure fucking did._ Scriabin sounded very frustrated and irritated, as well as out of breath. _Just like you fucking ruin everything, what a surprise. You do deserve a beating, and I'll be happy to oblige you when we're done with this. Christ. You and your fucking issues. Even when you're getting what you want you keep ruining it._

"You didn't ruin anything, dude, it's fine." Jake brushed some hair away from his forehead. "You asked me not to let anything bad happen to you, remember? I'm just making sure you don't hurt yourself. That was too much, we aren't going to do that." Edgar opened his eyes with a shaking breath. "I can tell by the look on your face that Scriabin is _not_ helping, so you better knock it off in there."

There was a muffled sound of a surprise, then resentment and that embarrassment from before. _Fuck you, don't tell me what to do._ Although there wasn't any real anger or strength to it - there almost never was when Scriabin said things like that to Jake. _You don't know anything. He deserves it. He said that himself._

A few more moments went by, Jake keeping his palm on his cheek as a reminder that he was there, his thumb lingering a little when it brushed over one of his scars. Jake always said he liked his scars, for some completely unfathomable reason.

"A little scary, huh?" Jake said softly. "It's scary when you're first figuring this stuff out. You're not bad, I'm not going to let you think that. We're going to go back to the fun stuff, okay? Don't worry. Everything's fine."

Fun stuff... describing this like that hadn't even occurred to him. He almost double-taked at the thought, at the reminder of what it was they were doing.

"You feeling any better?"

Edgar wasn't sure if he was, he didn't know what that'd entail. In his current state he felt very scattered. There was a mass of ugly negative feelings, that self-loathing and doubt and disgust, that desire for penance and some kind of salvation from himself, all of that, and there was how Jake was touching and holding him, and still how hot his body was, and how every time he was reminded that his hands were bound made him feel, and he was _still_ hard as hell which definitely wasn't helping with any of it.

"I..." He wasn't sure where the words were coming from. For all that Jake had said, Scriabin's words rang much clearer. "I'm sorry I'm like this. I'm sorry you have to..."

There was a moment of consideration before Jake came close to him again, pressing some kisses along his neck while Edgar's spine went weak. "Sorry for what? Do you have any idea how hot it is for me to see you like this...?"

"It..." Confusion blanked away his self-hatred for those few crucial seconds. "It is...?"

"Fuck yeah, dude." There was a little more heat to it now, to how he ran his hands along his sides. "You want this _so_ bad, you want me to do this to you so bad, I've never _seen_ you like this. You have no idea how hard and long I want to fuck you right now."

"Ah..." He shuddered at the thought of it, the words, the promise, and he heard an echoing moan in the back of his mind. Still, for all the times Jake had said that to him, still, it was so hard for Edgar to believe. Why would anyone feel that way about him? _How_?

"It's hot as hell when someone's into what you're doing _that_ much, you know," Jake murmured across his throat, ran a hand around him to the small of his back. "You _really_ want me to fuck you, don't you...?"

That fear, those negative feelings were losing the battle against the resurging heat of his body. "Yes..." It was thoughtless, but very true, and Edgar arched his back against him with a faint gasp.

"You want me to pin you down so you can't get away, don't you?"

"God..." He shuddered hard with it. "God, ah... yes... yes, please..."

"You want me to come deep inside you so you know who you belong to, don't you?"

"Jesus- Jesus, Jake-" He could barely breathe through the shivers, through the feel of his mouth still against his skin. "Fuck, yes, God... please."

"That's good..." Jake pulled away from him and left him trembling, feeling like he was about to collapse at any second. "And you're going to be very good from now on, aren't you?"

"Yes, yes..." That came out a lot more desperate than he would have liked, but definitely about as desperate as he felt. "I'll do anything, I'll- I'll be good-"

"Yes, you will." There was something reassuring about it, almost, as Jake moved to get something from his bag. _Good_ was back to echoing around his head. God, he wanted to be good. Edgar pressed both hands against his chest to feel his heart, as awkward a motion as it was.

"What are you going to do...?" It sent a thrill through him with the answer he was expecting, what he wanted to hear.

"I'm going to do whatever I want to you, isn't that right? And you're going to do whatever I tell you to."

"Yes..." Edgar shuddered again. The thought of just giving everything over to him, just letting go of it, it was alternately terrifying and soothing. "I... I'll do whatever you want... you can do anything you want to me..." And he shivered again, powerfully, something tight all at once in his stomach. "I-I can't... I can't stop you like this..."

Scriabin made a pleased hum in his mind that ended with a long _fuck_ before a shivering inhale.

"And that is what you want, isn't it?" There was still that toying edge to it that kept building him higher... but underneath, there was that sincerity again, that concern that kept true panic away. It was a genuine question. "Me, doing whatever I want, while you're helpless to stop me?"

"Ngh, God..." It felt hard to say, it felt wrong and it felt _dangerous_ , but it was so hard to think clearly. "Yes, I... I want you to... to make sure I... I'm... I'm helpless, and... you can... do anything to me... I want you, to... to make sure I know it..."

Scriabin was breathing hard in the back of his head, he couldn't tell his own emotions from his, which one of them that blinding desire and lust was coming from.

"Just like I thought..." Jake turned back to him, reaching a hand out to his face. He couldn't help the slight jump when he touched his cheek. "Nice and obedient." And he could hear a smile in his voice at the quiet moan in response. "You want to be obedient, don't you?"

"God, yes, yes yes..."

"Turn around."

It was a little difficult with his hands tied as they were, but he managed to pull his legs onto the bed and turn his back to him. Adrenaline again surged through him - even though he hadn't been able to see much of him before, it was still quite different to not be able to see Jake at all. He jumped again when he felt Jake behind him, his hands against his sides. He could feel his chin on his shoulder, his legs propped up around them both.

"What...?" Edgar couldn't help the dismay in his voice as Jake undid the bindings around his wrists, and as they fell free, they felt small and all too cold. 

"Shh." It was brief, but surprisingly effective with the jolt it sent through him. Jake grabbed his wrists and pulled them behind his back, and what he intended was obvious. Edgar left them where he positioned them as Jake retied his hands, his arms folded behind him at the elbow. "Now I can _really_ start doing whatever I want with you..."

"Nngh..."

Jake slid one hand up his chest to his throat to lean his head back, and when that hand left, Edgar didn't move an inch. 

"That's it, good boy. You understand how this works."

With his heart beating this hard, it was hard not to breathe through his mouth, each breath a quiet wanting sound. He couldn't tell which ones were his and which ones were Scriabin's.

"You understand that you need a reminder of who you belong to..." he whispered by his ear as something stiff slid around the sides of his neck, and Edgar made a series of stuttering gasps as the realization came to him, as Jake adjusted the lay of the collar so it fit snugly against his skin, unable to be ignored. "Who do you belong to?"

"You." It almost wasn't a word for how breathless it was, as he felt something long brushing against his skin, the little adjustments he was making around his neck, the click of metal against metal.

 _You- ah-_ It was hard for him to speak. _You're mine\- you only belong to me- god, I want this, I want this, this isn't fucking fair-_

"Good boy." It was smooth and slow by his ear, and every time he said that it did something so powerful to him, he wasn't sure he could even give it a name. "Turn around."

It was difficult still with his arms behind his back, although Jake was more than willing to move him himself. He set a hand on Edgar's chest to push him down against the covers again, prompting a fervent whine, and he began undoing his zipper.

"Have to get _these_ off..."

Instinctually, Edgar wanted to struggle or do it himself, do something about it but his hands were tied, he could still feel the collar when he breathed hard, and all that broke powerfully in him into a series of begging whimpers. Everything in him was shaking, everything the slightest of thin threads.

"Don't want you hiding anything from me, after all." As the last bit of clothing was stripped from him, and he didn't think it was possible to give off so much heat. Jake settled in between his legs, propping them apart, although he still wasn't touching him where he wanted.

"That's more like it." He could hear the smile in his voice, even if he couldn't see it at the moment. "Your legs spread and open for me."

Edgar moaned without control, the embarrassment of it again causing him to instinctually try to close them, but Jake's body stood firmly in the way. _I... I can't close them..._

 _God, fuck-_ Through hissed teeth, that fierce and frustrated desire running wild through his voice.

"You don't even know what I'm going to do to you." Jake reached down to take the other end of the leash in hand, and a tug at it prompted a shivering gasp. It rippled through him, God-

_I-I shouldn't want this, this shouldn't be doing this to me, I shouldn't be doing this, this is wrong-_

_God damn it, fuck this- fuck off with your stupid little issues, you're going to ruin it for both of us, god damn you-_ They were fierce gasps now. _You're going to ruin it and I'm not going to let you, you don't even understand what it's like, you never do-_

There, he could feel that kind of burning, awful static sensation that came with Scriabin about to take control of him, and there was some disappointment at it happening but mostly fear. He didn't want him to, not right now, it hurt and he didn't want him to but it was going to happen anyway-

_Don't, don't please-_

Everything got blurry, he was starting to hyperventilate as his body began to go numb, and then he felt Jake's hand grab his chin firmly.

"Hey. Hey. _No_." Jake's voice was surprisingly stern in a way he hadn't heard before, and his grip strong. "Stop it, Scriabin. This is for _both_ of you, not just for you. Stop it."

There was a tense silence, that static still hovered at that blinding painful level, his skin prickled as he struggled to breathe. Edgar whined, faint and weak.

Scriabin growled in his head, a long one.

"Stop it." Jake gave his chin a tiny shake.

There was another tense silence, and then, somehow, slowly, that crackling distortion began to ebb. Already disoriented, Edgar could barely tell what was happening. When that happened, it never _stopped_ happening. He only knew it going one way.

Slowly it receded until the world came back into focus, his head throbbing with it, and he gulped for air while Jake rested a hand on his cheek.

 _Fuck you._ It was quiet and resentful, darkly furious. _Don't tell me what to do. Fuck you. Fuck this. What a fucking waste of time this is._

"Edgar?" Jake asked.

Edgar blinked, trying to reorient himself to the current moment and place in time. He was breathing strangely, but _he_ was still breathing.

"Th..." Edgar said, soft and shaky. "Thank you."

 _Fuck you. I hate both of you. This is such fucking bullshit._ Still quietly furious.

"Scriabin, this was _your_ idea." Jake didn't sound quite as stern now, although there was still some resolve to it. " _You_ wanted to do this because you knew Edgar would like it."

 _Fuck you._ It was quieter.

"And you said it was because when you're _both_ feeling it, it gets super intense."

_Fuck you. I didn't say that. You don't know me._

"So unless _you're_ the one who wants to get tied up and fucked, and I'm pretty sure you're not, then stop-"

 _Fuck you!_ It was a lot louder and angrier now. _Fuck you! Go jump off a fucking bridge!_

"Ow, ow ow..." Edgar winced in spite of himself.

"Scriabin," Jake said, a little admonishing, and he sighed. "Look, I get it... well, I guess I don't, 'cause I'm not in someone like you are." He scratched the back of his head. "It's frustrating when you can't do something yourself and have to wait for someone else to do it. Like... I get feeling impatient and horny. I get that."

 _Fuck you._ It was quiet again. For all his anger, when Jake said his name, Scriabin couldn't help that little warm pulse in response. It felt strange whenever the two of them talked when Edgar was present... he was there, but more of a conduit than a participant in the conversation. 

It was still strange to have people addressing Scriabin at _all_ , and while it still felt unnatural to them both... it was easy to tell that Scriabin liked it when it happened. Craved it, even, and whenever he acted out...

"And I know you like attention. I get why you want to take over. I get it. But the payoff is going to be worth it." Jake was smiling now, and Scriabin grumbled and that tangle of negative feelings in the back of his head got twisted in with something else.

 _Fuck you._ It was very quiet now.

"So you need to behave yourself."

_You don't get to decide whether I take control or not. Fuck you._

"Edgar?"

"Uh?"

Jake indicated something invisible with some small tilts of his head.

"Oh, um..." Edgar was still trying to slow his breathing. "He's... he's upset and angry. He's yelling at us."

_I don't need you as a proxy. This is all fucking bullshit. I'm leaving. Fuck both of you._

"Oh, where are you going to go?" Edgar said, with a doubting frown. "Don't be dramatic."

_Fuck you. I don't need this. It's a waste of my time. Like I don't have a million better things that I could do than this. God, fuck whoever it was that cursed me to be stuck with you of all people. If Hell even existed, I'd be in it._

"What other things would you even want to do? _You're_ the one who constantly wants to get laid, this was your idea!"

_I want to fuck under my terms, you idiot! I'm not like you! Christ, you're stupid!_

" _I'm_ stupid? _You're_ the one who's throwing a tantrum about getting what _you_ wanted-"

_How fucking DARE YOU-_

"Hey, hey." Jake patted his cheek to regain his attention. "Come on. This isn't the best time, guys."

_Fuck you both. God, I hate you, I hate you so fucking much._

"Sorry... sometimes, he just... sorry." Edgar looked away.

"Don't sulk, Scriabin." Jake rubbed his cheek with one thumb. "I'm not doing this to be mean to you. I care about you, but I care about Edgar too, okay?"

There was a little shiver with that quiet ache of resentment. _Fuck you._ It had less strength now.

"And I do think you were on to something... I do think if you're both here, it's going to fucking blow your _mind_ when you get off. But you _both_ need to be here." Jake held up a finger. "If you're going to keep being a brat, then I'm going to call the whole thing off."

_Fuck you! I can't fucking believe that I'm the one who came up with this whole scenario and all I'm getting for it is this stupid bullshit. How fucking stupid was I to think either of you could do even this one simple thing? I hand it to you on a silver platter and you just throw it in the garbage, and it's my fault? I'm fucking tired of holding your hand while you flail around in the quagmire of your own fucking damage that you caused to yourself. Fuck this. You're on your own. Have fucking fun ruining everything you touch like you always do, and don't come crying to me for sympathy when you can't even fulfill your deepest fantasy, that I arranged for you by the way, because you're so fucking stupid and broken. I'm going to go read a book or something while you fail your way through all your sexual issues, I do not give a fuck about what happens to you from this point._

There was a pause while they stared at each other, and Jake kept stroking his cheek, and Edgar swallowed.

"You care about me...?"

"Of course I do, dude." He could just make out Jake's expression softening into a gentle smile. "I care about him, too, like I said."

And a little flare of warmth came at that, still resentful but a little pleased.

"It's just..." And Jake huffed some hair out of his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. "This gets kind of complicated when there are two of you..."

"Sorry..." Edgar looked down.

"It's not your fault, neither of you asked for this, right?" Jake held up a hand. "I mean... from what you've said."

 _I didn't want this._ Scriabin did sound distinctly sulky now.

"Yeah, uh... neither of us expected this."

"I didn't really expect this either." Jake laughed. "But here we are, right? We might as well make the best of it." He paused, and he ran a hand down Edgar's chest. "He'll forgive me soon enough anyway, he knows I love him."

It blinded him, almost, how powerful the wave of emotion that came up at those words was, his mouth dried and he made a shivering sound as he shuddered through it, the warmth of it permeating every part of him.

Jake laughed again. "He liked that, didn't he? I can always see it on you when he gets flustered like that, it's cute."

Scriabin made an angry sound. _Fuck you. Asshole. You don't know anything about me. I don't feel anything I don't want to. You don't know anything._ His words came unevenly, his sentences choppy, in a way like he was shaking.

"Uh..." Edgar still felt breathless with it, it had hit him so powerfully and so completely it was like being sucked under the ocean. He was still trying to shake off the remnants of it. "Yeah... yeah, he did."

_Don't tell him how I feel. Fuck you._

"I thought he would." Jake ran a hand back up his chest slowly, his fingertips brushing against one of his nipples again in a way that sent a shiver through him. "You're both pretty obvious when you like something..."

"Ah..." When his hand moved away, Edgar arched his back to try and bring it back closer. Everything felt so sensitive, whatever it was he was thinking about scattering in the face of trying to get more of that sensation.

 _"I thought he would"- oh what, you want to throw down with me, you fucker? You want to try and play the emotional manipulation game with me? You just made a big fucking mistake, fuck, Edgar tell him to stop touching you, I have things I want to say to him-_ He made a quiet grunt as Jake's fingers drifted back to Edgar's nipples, both their voices shivering. _Damn it, tell him to stop or I'm going to take over for real, fuck what either of you think-_

"Don't, don't do that-" Edgar said, without thinking, and Jake jolted his hand back immediately.

"What? What is it, are you okay?" Instantly that smooth tone was out of his voice, his eyes were wide.

Edgar took in a few quick breaths, he could still feel Scriabin's smoldering resentment and the very real threat it posed. "Oh, oh, it wasn't you, it..." He paused in thought, then made an unhappy noise as he looked away. "It... it's Scriabin, he's... he's mad about what you said. Um... he wants to talk to you."

Jake was quiet for a bit, and he had a careful tone in his voice now. "What does he want to talk about?"

"He's just-"

_No, no, you tell him word for word. You hear me? You tell him what I'm saying._

"I hate it when you make me do this." Edgar frowned.

_I do not give a fuck, Edgar._

"Okay, okay... go ahead then." Edgar sighed. There'd been a stab of fear at the threat of it at first... but now, mostly what he felt was _frustrated_. They'd been just about to pick up again... fuck, how many times was he going to get close to getting off only for something to go wrong?

_Don't fucking lie to me just to try and calm me down, you bastard. You don't fucking lie to me, I'm not as fucking stupid as Edgar is. Don't fucking try to play me like I'm some stupid idiot, like I'm that desperate for your fucking validation. The audacity of it! I really should just take control so I can tell you to fuck off myself._

"Really?" Edgar furrowed his brow with a grimace. "Really?"

_Tell him!_

"Ugh." Edgar let out a long and unhappy sigh. "Okay, um..." And he paused. "You don't want me to do the voice, do you? I _hate_ the voice."

_Fuck no, I don't want to hear that right now. I'm too pissed off and you always do it wrong anyway._

"Okay..." Edgar took in a breath, twitched one of his legs which sent another frustrating reminder of what they _should_ be doing. "Don't lie to me just to try and calm me down. You don't lie to me, I'm not as stupid as-" his voice caught for a second, "as Edgar is. Don't treat me like a stupid idiot, I'm not desperate for your..." He paused to try and remember. "For your validation... should take control so he can tell you to fuck off himself."

_Terrible. As always._

"Look, it's hard, okay? You say a _lot_ at once. I got most of it."

_I barely even got started! Pathetic. It's just a full course buffet of disappointment tonight. God damn it._

There was a moment of silence, and Edgar's heart began beating very fast as dread began to build within. Rapidly it felt like he was drowning in it. God, he'd really messed up now, this was going to be it. That moment he was always bracing for was going to happen.

Finally, Jake sighed, and he held up both his hands. "Okay, okay... sorry, Scriabin. I didn't mean it to come off that way... I wasn't lying to you though, I promise."

 _Yes you were._ It was quiet and sullen... and, Edgar realized as his brow furrowed in concern, a little hurt.

"He doesn't believe you," Edgar said, softly.

"Aww, dude..." There was that similar concern he'd heard before, when Edgar had told him he was afraid.

 _Fuck off._ Angrier now, and shaking a little.

"Tell you what... how can I make it up to you? I know you're mad, but..." And Jake ran a hand along Edgar's side to his hip, and any flagging interest immediately roared back to life. Both of them made a soft, wanting sound without thought. "You can think of something, can't you?"

Scriabin made an annoyed sound, but nothing more.

"I _know_ you like being right." Jake trailed his hand back up, and Edgar made another faint sound. "Want me to prove you right, then?" He could hear a smile in his voice. " _I_ really want to prove you right about this. And I think you know I'd be _really_ good at it."

His hand slid up to his chest, back to one of his nipples again, and Edgar arched his back with a soft gasp. The sudden resurgence of heat felt more disorienting than ever, filling that quieting part of him with startling strength.

_Nnh..._

"Well...?"

A soft pinch prompted something like a yelp, his heart hammering, and he strained to move his hands and couldn't, sending another full-body shudder through him. 

_Damn it... damn it._ He sounded frustrated, although that familiar breathiness was back in his voice.

"Yes-" Edgar gasped out, even though Scriabin hadn't said it because _God_ , he couldn't stand much more of this. "Yes, he wants- please- God, _please_ -"

"I swear..." Jake laughed again, strangely fond at the increasingly louder moans Edgar was making. "Fucking you guys is an adventure every time. I never get tired of it."

"Ah, aah...!"

"Are you going to be good?" Jake leaned back and tugged on the leash, and Edgar's heart jumped again. He tried to free his arms, and couldn't, and he tried to close his legs, and couldn't, and the noise he made at every reminder of that... "If something of mine wants to get fucked hard, then they have to be good."

"Ah, yes... yes, I'll- I'll be-" It was hard to find the space to speak with how hard he was breathing. "Do- do anything you want to me-"

"Oh, I'm going to." Jake leaned off to one side, and even that brief lapse in attention felt like too much. It was painful almost how much he wanted to be touched, his head throbbed with it, everything was begging for it. Desperate and senseless, he struggled to free his arms to do _some_ thing, he couldn't take this, but even when he really tried... he couldn't get loose. Jake watched him as he strained with real effort until he fell back with a gasp, light-headed and almost dizzy. "I told you... you're not going anywhere."

"Nnh- touch me, touch me please." It was breathless, he knew what the answer would be but he couldn't help it. 

Scriabin made a shivering sound at the words. _God, if you knew how this feels-_

"When I want to." And he touched the inside of one thigh as if to taunt him. Edgar bucked, twisted his body to try and do something, but Jake refused to move. "You'll just have to wait."

"Please, please..."

"First, I'm going to fuck you so hard, you aren't going to know what hit you." He felt something cool and slick, he didn't even know when Jake had gotten the lube, and he threw his head back with a shaking cry. "I'm going to fuck you until really _understand_ who's in control here."

"Oh God..." Edgar managed to get it out between gasps. "Oh God... please..." Just thinking about it was almost too much, he could almost _feel_ it... or at least, he thought he did, he wasn't sure. The boundaries between him and Scriabin had become so blurry, he wasn't sure who was wanting what anymore. He couldn't think clearly enough to try to reach for Scriabin, try to figure out where he started and ended. It was hard to differentiate his harsh external breathing from the heavy breathing within.

Jake was taking his time with it, he always did... he could always trust him to be careful, even when he wasn't capable of it himself. Edgar arched his back, writhed at times in a kind of senseless need, and when it got too fervent, Jake would yank on the leash again to get his attention, and he'd give in to a shudder that left him boneless. All he needed was a little more... he was so close, but Jake was going so slowly... he just needed a little more...

 _Fuck fuck fuck..._ Scriabin had been repeating it for a while, equally senseless although of course he could find the words for it when Edgar couldn't.

"You're really desperate, aren't you?" Jake sounded a little breathless himself. "I know exactly what you need."

"Please, please please..."

"You need to know..." He could feel him starting to slide in, his whole body thrumming with it, but still, Jake took his time. "Who you belong to... don't you?"

"Ngh- God-" Edgar kicked as best he could, tossed his head to one side. "Please-"

"Oh, you'll get what you want, don't worry." Although his voice was a little strained with focus as he slid into him deeper and too agonizingly slowly. "It'll just be when _I_ want to give to you."

Jake was in him, he could _feel_ him in him now, and it drove all conscious thought or decorum completely out of his mind. Everything in his body was crying out, he wanted to touch himself so _badly_ if Jake was going to do this so slowly, but his arms were still pinned behind his back, he was helpless and it was so frustrating but at the same time, he felt alive in a way he didn't know was possible.

"Fuck me, fuck me, please-!"

Jake pulled out, too slowly, but when he thrust back in it was almost too perfect, the movement and the feeling and knowing what he was doing, thinking about the collar around his neck, and his arms, and Jake was still holding the leash in one hand-

A few more thrusts and he was entirely lost, gasping with each stroke, everything in him on fire, twisting to get his arms free even when he knew he couldn't, shuddering at every reminder of it. Jake slowed his pace for a moment, deliberately taunting him he was sure, just so he could hear the plaintive moan Edgar made before starting again.

 _Fuck-_ Just as breathless, the gasps just as powerful. His voice wavered with each movement through Edgar in perfect synchronicity. _Fuck- ah-_

Edgar really couldn't think, beyond words at this point, even though still he wanted, still he wanted something that was out of his power to get for himself. Jake began thrusting into him with harder, faster, his body rocking with it, he could hear the gasps of effort from him as he did it, and every movement of it went through him, he could feel it, he could feel it and he knew he'd keep feeling it after it was done.

Finally, after all the torment of it, that helpless waiting filled with so much adrenaline, so much anticipation, desire that felt like it was going to drive him mad, Jake began fucking him _hard_. He could feel it all the way through his body, he could feel it aching through, he could feel his body giving in around it, a boneless ecstasy that came with giving himself over to something too powerful to ever resist. This was what he wanted and it was finally happening and it was better than he thought it could be, and he wasn't sure if it was just because he wanted it or because _Scriabin_ had wanted this, he couldn't tell what either of them wanted anymore, just that both of them were being completely taken apart by it. Scriabin's pleasure fed into his own, it was more powerful to hear it from him than himself, and they were just encouraging each other, pushing the other higher.

Jake's pace slowed, gradually, much to Edgar's dismay, and he made several desperate whines to try and get him to continue, but he seemed unmoved. The strokes were slower now, deeper which he did like, more deliberate in a way that was meant to emphasize to him that they were happening, this was happening to him the way Jake wanted it to happen. Deeper, harder, whatever it was it wasn't enough...

Still with steady, slow movements, Jake reached down and wrapped his hand around Edgar, and the noise he made wasn't one he thought he could make. He thrust deep into him, strong, unyielding, as he stroked him once with his hand. Jake still sounded out of breath, being able to speak took great focus. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you?"

Edgar couldn't even form coherent words at that point, everything in him was shaking harder with every movement Jake made, inside and out.

"I'm going to keep fucking you, as hard as I want to..." His voice lowered, his hand moved faster with another slow but deep thrust into him.

"Ah- ahh, God-"

" _Both_ of you..."

_Fuck, fuck, nnh-_

"And I'm going to come deep inside you." With another purposeful thrust into him. "I'm going to fill you up so you never forget for even a second that I-"

That was it, the mental image of it was too much. Jake thrust deep into him again, another stroke of his hand, and the sensation of it dragged Edgar down into a sudden burst of heat that took his breath away, that made him see stars as pleasure like he'd never known flooded through him like it was replacing every cell in his body. His hips jerked with it as it poured out of him, the sound he made wavered with how powerfully his body shuddered through it, but he couldn't spare much thought for the physical side of it. The noise Scriabin made was unbelievable, a purely mental burst and release of a type he didn't think was possible and he had no idea how to bear. Nothing like this had ever happened before, it had _never_ been this powerful, and any other sexual encounters they'd shared were just candles by this bonfire. It didn't feel like one body could contain this much emotion, this much sensation, this level of impossible physical and mental ecstacy.

He wasn't sure how long it was until he could reconnect to the current moment, until he was able to realize that he was still making sounds with each breath, loud and shaking moans as his body trembled like it'd fall apart any second. He panted desperately, his heart beat warm all over his body. He wasn't sure how many aftershocks there were, he lost count - it felt like every time one of them dwindled down to some semblance of calm, the other would spark again and suck them into it, both of them forming an endless loop of constant climax. Edgar felt like he was going to lose his mind, it almost felt like the intensity of it was going to destroy any sense of self he had, and finally, finally when it really seemed like it was over, that shivering tension in him eased and he fell back on the bed, limp and panting. The image came to him of Scriabin collapsing into his arms, the two of them holding each other to try and keep the other upright, both gasping and weak.

"Ha... I told you, dude." Jake sounded very pleased with himself, and he ran a hand along Edgar's thigh. "Holy fuck, I don't know if I've _ever_ seen someone get off like that before. You know... you guys are kind of lucky, some people would kill to come that hard, or that _long_. I don't think that's even possible if there aren't two of you. So, it looks like you were right after all, huh, Scriabin?"

Scriabin couldn't find the strength to say something, trembling and small and breathless in his arms, but that little pulse of warmth managed to work its way through anyway.

"But, there is something else I told you, too..." And he began moving again, slowly at first, and Edgar moaned at the low buzz of renewed sensation. "I told you what I was going to do to you... I've gotta keep my word, right...?"

"Ah..." Edgar _was_ exhausted... he'd never felt so drained in his life, but, at the same time... this was exactly what he wanted, and for all that his reserves were spent, still, remnants of adrenaline brought that thrill up his spine.

"I've got to make sure..." And his words were getting breathless again as his thrusts picked up in speed and power. "You know what you've gotten yourself into..."

"Hh, yes..." It was weak now, shivering as he rocked with the motion in and out of his body. The strength of it again sent something through him, the power of it leaving him weak, and now he was helpless to it completely. It almost made him feel weightless with the complete submission to it, a lightness in his chest and his head, he couldn't think about anything but this feeling and Jake doing this to him, and how his hands were tied and a collar was around his neck, and he didn't want any of it to stop.

Jake thrust into him hard and fast, undeniable and powerful, he felt each one through his whole body, that's what he wanted, and he could hear Jake's breathing get harder as he knew he was getting close himself, and he wanted that, Edgar wanted him to feel the same way he did, he wanted him to give him what he said he would-

There was one final, shaking thrust deep into him, and Edgar imagined it just as he'd said, the warmth of Jake filling him and the inexorable proof that he had complete and total power over him, and he made a long shaking moan to go along with Jake's. Both of them were panting hard, struggling to catch their breath, and it felt like it took ages for one of them to move again.

Jake pulled himself out, slowly, and pressed a hand to his head, laughing a little. " _Damn_." 

Edgar wanted to agree but couldn't get his tongue to work properly. Jake leaned back, holding up a hand in the usual "wait" gesture as he pulled the condom off. There wasn't really much Edgar could do _but_ wait, which sent a little shiver through him even with how exhausted he was. Completely drained, he wasn't even sure how much time had passed or what had happened before Jake came back to his side.

"Come on, come on..." He took gentle hold of his arms to get him to sit up. "You okay, dude? Let me get that." And he reached behind him to free his arms. Edgar was dimly aware of this happening, but was having trouble actually experiencing it, in a sense. He wasn't sure why, and when confused...

_Scriabin...?_

_Fuck..._ Scriabin's voice was very shaky, still he seemed unfamiliarly small and weak. _Jesus._

_Are you okay?_

_Are you okay? It's like a bomb went off in here, fuck. Christ._ There was a hesitant tinge underneath his quick breaths, as though he'd said something he didn't intend. _I knew you'd get off on it but I didn't think it'd be that hard. Jesus._

"There we go..." Jake pulled the collar off, then rubbed Edgar's neck a little where it had been. "You okay, dude?"

"I... I'm..." Edgar tried to find words after spending so long without them, taking in a deep breath to try and get himself under control, and then, without warning or reason, it caught in a loud sob. Startled, he pressed a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide as tears began to fall. "I'm- God, sorry, it's not- it wasn't bad, I don't- I don't know why I'm- I'm sorry-"

"Aww dude, it's okay." He could hear a gentle smile in his voice, and Jake brushed some tears off his cheek. "This kind of thing can be super intense. I've seen this happen before, it's okay."

Edgar expected Scriabin to berate him for being stupid enough to cry after what was probably the best sex he'd ever had, but instead he was strangely silent. He reached out vaguely for how he might be feeling, and all he touched was a perfect mirror. Again the image came to him of Scriabin in his arms, shivering, tired, confused, overwhelmed by it, and he expected Scriabin to get mad at him for that too, but he was also quiet about it.

"It was-" It was important to make this clear, it was so important. "It was- it was really good- please don't think- please don't think this is because I- I didn't want it, I _did_ want it, it was- I think it was maybe- the best I've- I swear, it was good, I don't know why I'm doing this." And now, for some reason, he was crying even harder. "I don't know why I'm doing this, I don't want to."

"Hey, hey, shh. It's okay." Jake pulled him into an embrace, his arms again so solid around him, that safe feeling washing over him. "I know, it's fine. You're okay. Just let it out, if you want."

That was an impossible thing to ask. Edgar was not going to experience any emotions without fighting to the death not to. "I'm... I don't know why..."

"Just chill, it's fine. I got nowhere else to be." There was a moment, then he laughed. "I know when I come over here, I'm not going anywhere else for the night. I've got you."

They were quiet for a little bit, Edgar trying to get himself under control, shadows of what happened still flickering over his mind as if taunting him with his lack of adrenaline to spare. Jake hummed every now and then, as if to remind him he was there.

"You feeling a bit better...?"

"A..." Edgar took in a shuddering breath. "A little..."

"How's he doing?"

"Mm?" Edgar blinked.

"How's Scriabin doing?" Jake rubbed his arm. "No one gets off that hard alone, I know he did too. Is he doing okay in there? It had to be intense for him too."

He paused. _Scriabin...?_

He expected him to shove him away, but it was just quiet. Still, he felt that mirror to his own feelings, that inexplicable powerless emotional exhaustion, connections made between things that didn't make sense. Scriabin didn't have a body of his own to cry with. What would the equivalent of that even be?

If Scriabin couldn't talk, or couldn't find the words, that worried him. He again tried to picture them together, Scriabin in his lap with his arms around his neck, his face hidden, shivering uncontrollably, making quiet breathless gasps. Edgar held him close, not sure of what else he could do with this sudden vulnerability. Scriabin didn't want to be doing it any more than Edgar did, no doubt, and he no doubt also wanted an explanation for it that wasn't coming. That blurriness between them hadn't faded... the intense overlap was both comforting and disorienting.

"He's..." Edgar paused, trying to keep the mental image in his mind's eye. His heart was slowing, his breathing evening out... outbursts like this never lasted for long, at least. "I think it's the same for him... I don't know how to describe it..." Were there even words for this kind of shared emotional overload between them?

"Aww." It was a genuine expression of sympathy for how simple it was. "Poor guy. Wish I could hold him too."

Edgar would have expected that little pleased pulse from him at that, but Scriabin didn't really react... he just stayed in his arms, holding onto him for dear life, his focus entirely on him and him alone. Despite how strange the situation was... there was something comforting about Scriabin focusing only on him. He missed that, sometimes, when Jake was here. Vaguely, he wondered if Scriabin missed that too. He pictured himself rubbing his back, holding him tight through it as he struggled to get himself under control. A moment like this was incredibly rare, in its own way sort of precious.

"I'm trying to hold him." Edgar closed his eyes. "I think it's helping..."

"Aww." Again, that strange fondness. "Take good care of him, huh? He's gonna need it until everything calms down. You're all he's got."

Edgar wasn't sure why that thought gave him a warm feeling. He _was_ all Scriabin had... Scriabin was his, and no one else's. Not even Jake's. Something about the thought felt familiar, reassuring, and he felt a weak echo of it from Scriabin in response, something between the two of them calming.

"I don't understand... I don't understand why I feel like this." It was easier to focus now, what had just happened slowly losing its intense glare. Edgar still felt sore, deeply so, and he knew he was probably going to feel it for a while. Thinking about that too much made his heart jump a little though. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Eh... sometimes you end up crying when things are too intense." Jake shrugged, as best he could, while keeping his arms around him. "Like... after you go on a rollercoaster, you might cry a little bit, even though it's over? Something like that." A moment. "Gotta admit, that hasn't happened to me a lot, but I've seen it happen to other people."

"It still doesn't make sense to me..."

"Well, no offense, but you're always like that." Jake gave him a squeeze. "You want to get cleaned up? If you're okay to walk that is." And he laughed.

 _What do you mean, I'm always like that?_ But he was too tired for the thought to find much purchase or emotion. He kept his focus on that image of Scriabin in his arms, petting his hair, holding him close, nothing able to fit in the lack of space between them. Jake helped him off the bed, steadied him when he wobbled on his feet, and walked with him to the bathroom. They ended up showering together, which under other circumstances might have led to a second round, but Edgar was too exhausted and Jake didn't push. Over the course of it, finally Scriabin began to uncurl from his arms, rubbed his face and pushed him away without much force, and slowly tried to re-enter the conversation with some clumsy insults without much focus. Edgar's emotions finally fell to a more bearable place, he felt somewhat more solid, and Scriabin found his more typical rhythm and distance from him, and they both recovered and both said absolutely nothing about what happened to each other.

"You know..." Jake stroked his hair idly while Edgar rested his head on his chest. "If you're that into bondage, there are other things we can try too, if you want."

"I'm not-" It came out of him without thought, his face warming, and he knew how stupid it was as his voice fell. He could have just left it at that, and yet... "I'm not into bondage."

Jake laughed. "Sure you aren't, dude."

 _Really..._ Scriabin sounded pleased with himself. _You know, that could have gone a lot worse._

_This is all your fault._

_I know._ Even more pleased. _You should at least get me a gift card._

_Asshole._

_The thanks I get! You're welcome for the mind-shattering orgasm, by the way._

Edgar got the image again of holding Scriabin close, and he expected the usual punishment for thinking something about Scriabin he did not want, and it didn't come. A lot of things still weren't making sense.

He was right though... that really could have gone a lot worse.

**Author's Note:**

> Some more random details there wasn't really any good way to work into the above:
> 
> -Jake doesn't really understand what their deal is and they didn't try too hard to explain it to him, really. He just rolls with what he can understand, even if it's weird or confusing. He tries very hard to refer to them as separate people because they both get extremely upset when he doesn't.
> 
> -Jake doesn't know how awful Scriabin can be to Edgar, neither of them tell him about that. He knows they bicker and fight and Scriabin can be mean to Edgar sometimes, but he has no idea HOW mean. Any trauma responses or reactions get attributed to a mysterious "ex-friend" (Edgar)/"ex-boyfriend" (Scriabin) that they don't talk about much. So Jake knows Edgar has been through some terrible things, but not how much of that is at Scriabin's feet.
> 
> -Since he doesn't really see him at his worst, Jake thinks of Scriabin as an amusing, high-maintenance diva. He will try to stop him from bullying Edgar though if he's around when it happens.
> 
> -Jake actually doesn't know a lot about the full horrific reality of Edgar's life, in part because Edgar tries pretty hard not to tell him about most of it. Edgar just wants to feel normal when Jake's around for once. Well, about as normal as he can with Scriabin. He's also terrified of scaring him away, so he keeps a lot of things secret.
> 
> -Edgar tries VERY hard not to let Nny find out about Jake since he's certain that Nny will kill Jake, him, or himself if he does. Nny doesn't know anything about this.
> 
> -Usually after a night with Jake the two of them get weirdly clingy and aggressive about attention from the other one for a bit out of a sort of subconscious insecurity about their relative importance to each other.


End file.
